ceived, for Captain Blashford, a man of rough
manners, concealing a gentle heart, looked him over critically, examined
his credentials (letters he had happened to have about him), and then
smiled grimly.

"We've got room for one more--and that's about all."

"I have no money----" began the refugee.

"Oh, that's all right," shrugged the Captain, "you're not the only one.
We've a cargo of twenty princes, thirty-two princesses, eighteen
generals and enough counts and countesses to set up a new nation
somewhere. Your 'Ighness is the only Duke that has reached us up to the
present speakin' and if there are any others, they'll 'ave to be brisk
for we're sailin' in twenty minutes."

The matter-of-fact tones with which the unemotional Britisher made this
announcement restored the lost sense of humor of the Russian refugee,
and he broke into a grim laugh.

"An embarrassment of riches," remarked the Grand Duke.

"Riches," grunted the Captain, "in a manner of speakin', yes. Money is
not so plentiful. But jools! Good God! There must be half a ton of
diamonds, rubies and emeralds aboard. All they're got left most of 'em,
but complaints and narvousness. Give me a cargo of wheat and I'm your
man," growled the Captain. "It stays put and doesn't complain," and then
turning to Peter--"Ye're not expectin' any r'yal suite aboard the
_Phrygia_, are ye?"

"No. A hammock for'rad will be good enough for me."

"That's the way I like to 'ear a man talk. Good God! As man to man, I
arsk you,--with Counts throwin' cigarette butts around an' princesses
cryin' all over my clean white decks an' all, what's a self-respectin'
skipper to do? But I 'ave my orders to fetch the odd lot to
Constantinople an' fetch 'em I will. Oh! They're odd--all right. Go
below, sir, an' 'ave a look at 'em."

But Peter Nicholaevitch shook his head. He had been doing a deal of
quiet thinking in those starry nights upon the Dnieper, and he had
worked out his problem alone.

"No, thanks," he said quietly, "if you don't mind, I think I'd rather
preserve my incognito."

"Incognito, is it? Oh, very well, suit yourself. And what will I be
callin' your Highness?"

"Peter Nichols," said the Grand Duke with a smile, "it's as good as any
other."

"Right you are, Peter Nichols. Lay for'rad and tell the bos'n to show
you up to my cabin."

So Peter Nichols went forward, avoiding the cargo aft, until within a
day's run of the Bosphorus when he found himself accosted by